


take this pleasure and take it with the pain

by superstringtheory



Series: hungry heart [1]
Category: Riverdale (TV 2017)
Genre: Belly Kink, Bossy Betty Cooper, F/M, Feeding Kink, Fluff and Smut, Light Dom/sub, Stuffing, Teasing, Vaginal Sex, Weight Gain
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-11
Updated: 2017-11-11
Packaged: 2019-02-01 00:34:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,503
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12693390
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/superstringtheory/pseuds/superstringtheory
Summary: Betty puts on that dark bobbed wig from 1.03 and feeds Jughead a whole pie. They both really, really get off on it.





	take this pleasure and take it with the pain

**Author's Note:**

> Title from the Ariana Grande song "Love Me Harder" because I'm millennial trash.

“What’s this?” Jughead asked playfully, fingering the dark bobbed wig on Betty’s vanity. 

 

“Nothing,” Betty said, but then she saw how his gaze lingered on it and she was snatching it from his fingers before she really knew what she was doing. 

 

Jughead just watched her, his eyes daring her, and she let that feeling catch her and take her with it. 

 

“Hang on,” Betty said, and she quickly moved to the doorway of her en-suite bathroom. She hooked her head around the door and said, “Don’t move. Wait for me.” 

 

Jughead sank a little deeper into her pillows. “Okay, Betts.” 

 

***

 

When she returned, she wasn’t Betts, or Betty. 

 

“Sit up,” she said to Jughead, and she wasn’t asking. Normally, she tried to give him every choice, knowing that his life was largely one of circumstance, so she wanted to let him have control where she could give it. 

 

But now… 

 

Jughead let out a low whistle, which she cut off. 

 

“I said sit up.” 

 

She moved over to the bed, took him by the elbow. The black bob fluttered into her face and she spat out a little bit of hair. 

 

Jughead chuckled, and she leaned in and broke character for a moment, panting nervously in his ear, “Is this okay? Do you like it?” 

 

Jughead reached his arm around to readjust her pillows behind his back. “It’s wonderful, Betty Cooper.” 

 

His smile said even more and she wanted to go all starry-eyed for a second, but she caught herself just in time, standing up straight, the bob tucked safely behind her ears. 

 

“It’s Elizabeth,” she said. “ _ Miss _ Elizabeth.” 

 

Then she locked eyes with him and said, “I’ll be right back.” 

 

***

 

Jughead’s eyes widened at the sight of a whole pie-- chocolate mousse, his favorite-- and Betty quickly set it down on top of the comforter with purpose to keep her hands from shaking. They’d done feeding before-- cookies pressed casually to lips, Betty’s hands roving gently over Jughead’s midsection after too many burgers and shakes at Pop’s-- but nothing like this. 

 

Betty carefully climbed up on the bed after setting the dish down, and leaned in to put her mouth close to Jughead’s ear.

 

“Is it still okay?” she asked in a low voice, and Jughead squeezed her wrist. 

 

“Yes,” he said, emphatically. “ _ Very _ okay, Betty.” 

 

She tapped him lightly on the wrist. “It’s Miss Elizabeth,” she said. “Don’t forget again.” But she couldn’t help a quick wink as she dug the fork into the pie for a first bite, a perfect mixture of crust and chocolate and whipped cream. 

 

“Mmm,” Jughead said after he swallowed, closing his eyes softly, pale lashes just barely visible against his cheekbones.

 

“You like that?” she said, and it was just barely a question. Jughead was the picture of quiescence like this, and she took snapshot after mental snapshot of it-- his eyes shut as he leaned back against her lacy pillows. If she could keep him just like this, soft and malleable, she’d do just about anything. 

 

“Another,” she heard her mouth say, and watched Jughead’s pupils contract in the sudden light as he opened his eyes and then his mouth as she steered the fork towards it. 

 

“Another,” she said again, and then again, and then, “Good boy.” 

 

Jughead slumped back a little bit and stifled a burp, but she couldn’t miss the soft flush of pleasure infusing his cheeks. 

 

“Bet-- Miss Elizabeth,” he caught himself, long fingers tugging lightly at the hem of her sweater. “Would you?” 

 

He mimed pulling the bottom of his shirt up, as if to take it off, and Betty almost bit through her tongue at the unexpected flash of his tummy, at the squish of pudge beneath his belly button, and the jeans that looked more than a little uncomfortable. 

 

“I will,” she said, “if you will,” and her hands went to that uncomfortable looking jeans button almost of their own accord. 

 

***

 

Jughead looked relieved after his jeans were undone, and the sight of him had Betty nearly panting. There was a tingle between her legs that was itching to become a full on blaze of arousal. 

 

She twisted around a little to take off her sweater carefully, making sure the wig was still in place when she turned back to Jughead. 

 

“Wow,” he breathed, and the part of her that was all Betty, all girl-next-door and heart of gold, was ready to melt into him now and damn the rest of the pie. 

 

Instead, she bit her lip and leaned over so her chest was in his face when she kissed his ear and whispered, “You’re not done yet.” 

 

She didn’t give him any longer with her cleavage a breath away, and instead moved back a little to sit hip to hip with him- her feet facing the headboard and his the end of the bed. She set the pie tin down on his lap within easy reach and got another bite ready. 

 

“Wait,” Jughead said. “Will you--” and his thumb grazed her hipbone, dipped under the waistband of her leggings. 

 

Next time they did this, Betty thought, Miss Elizabeth might make him wait longer to see all of her, but this time she was too caught up in it herself. 

 

For a moment she wasn’t sure what to do with the fork, a bite of pie already on it, but Jughead made the decision for her, snatching it out of her hand and sticking it swiftly in his mouth with a cheeky grin. 

 

“Well, that’s decided,” she said, and shimmied her hips a little to pull the leggings down, while Jughead watched, sucking the fork clean. 

 

She grabbed the pie tin and swung her leg over his lap. 

 

“Here,” she said. “Hand me that fork.” 

 

***

 

She fed him like that for a long while, straddling him in boy short underwear and a front-clasping bra, until Jughead seemed to need a bit of a break and her thigh muscles were burning. She swung a leg off of him and he groaned a little as her movement jostled his position. 

 

“Getting full, Juggy?” she asked in mock concern, knowing full well that he’d already eaten half of a pie. 

 

“Somewhat,” he conceded, and she swiped a bit of whipped cream off of the corner of his mouth. His pupils widened as she stuck that finger in her mouth and sucked it deeply. 

 

“God,” Jughead said, and Betty widened her own eyes innocently. 

 

“What?” 

 

“Nothing,” he said, and just kept watching her as she got another bite of pie ready for him. She knelt next to him on the bed, her knee pressing into his upper thigh. It was a good angle-- she could clearly see that little bit of pudge underneath his chin, and the slight curve of his belly pushing eagerly into the space between the button and buttonhole. 

 

“Here,” she said. “Open up.” 

 

***

 

When there was only a quarter of the pie to go, Jughead was getting uncomfortable, Betty could tell. She set the tin down on the corner of the bed and skimmed her fingertips along the line of his hip and where his belly pushed out to meet it. That wasn’t the only thing to push out, either-- she could feel the hardness of him, too, and couldn’t help but give him a quick squeeze there, her clit throbbing as his eyes fluttered. 

 

It was good, to do what she wanted instead of what other people wanted her to do. To be the one who told what to do instead of do what she was told. She liked it, this power, this carefully careless control. She liked seeing Jughead like this, too, sated to the point where pleasure became pain. She liked him sleepy and slow-moving, obedient, and exactly where she could see and protect him. 

 

And god, did she ever like him  _ full _ . 

 

“Look at you,” she said, the skim of her fingers turning into a light massage. Jughead arced a little into her touch, and made a soft noise of complacency, one that thrilled her so much she had to bend and give him a hard, quick kiss. 

 

“Just look,” she repeated. “You greedy thing. You’ve eaten enough for a party.” 

 

“Have I?” he asked lazily, teasing. “I hadn’t noticed.” 

 

And maybe he hadn’t, really-- she saw the way he watched her, even as he chewed and swallowed, how he followed the curve of her breasts and hips as she moved to get him bites of pie. 

 

“Does it hurt?” she asked. “Being so greedy?” 

 

But he had to know that he’d eaten so much- his breath was coming a little shorter now, and sometimes one of his hands dropped down to his stomach to give a little rub. 

 

“A little,” he conceded finally, after swallowing another bite, Betty magnetized by the motion of his Adam’s apple and the little jump of his gut as he hiccupped. 

 

“Could use a drink,” he said then. “This is thirsty work, you know.” He winked, and she wanted him now, wanted him to make her come so hard she forgot her own name, wanted that sweet heat of him inside her. 

 

Not yet, though-- even more, she wanted to see him finish this pie for her, wanted him so glutted he was lax and sloppy and lost that veneer of perfect disheveledness he always affected. 

 

But there was nothing that said she couldn’t have everything all at once. 

 

*** 

 

In the kitchen, she considered a jug of milk, but then snagged the soda she’d bought at the gas station on her way home from Pop’s with the pie. She shivered a little, bare feet cold on the tile floor and only in her underwear, again grateful for the family trip she’d begged off of in order to “spend the weekend working on  _ The Blue and Gold _ .” 

 

“Here,” she said when she came back into her bedroom, and handed him the soda. He cracked open the can right away and took a long pull, and she could hear the gurgle of it in his stomach before he burped. He didn’t try to stifle it, and she felt her head get hot under the wig, his gaze locked on hers, daring her. 

 

“Excuse you,” she said, but he could tell that she liked it. 

 

Betty could feel that damp ache between her legs, and she nudged Jughead to get him to scoot down a little on the bed. He belched again when she made him lift his hips to wriggle the jeans down his legs, and she could see a twinkle in his eye as she tried hard to ignore that her ears felt red-hot. 

 

“I’m going to take my panties off now,” she told him matter-of-factly, and he just raised an eyebrow at her, watching silently as she moved the pie tin to the nightstand next to the soda can and worked her way out of her underwear. 

 

Almost immediately she climbed on top of him, dragging herself slowly along the length of his cock until her clit made contact with his belly and she let out a little moan despite herself. 

 

“You like that?” Jughead asked softly. “Like feeling my fat gut rub up against your clit?” 

 

Betty bit her tongue as Jughead pushed his belly out and she rocked herself up against him. 

 

“Jug,” she managed. “Feed yourself some more, and I’ll take off your underwear.” 

 

*** 

 

Sliding him into her felt so good she cried out softly before catching herself. Miss Elizabeth took her pleasure but she did not lose control, not completely. 

 

Instead, to focus herself, she straightened her back and said, “You’re not fat yet.” 

 

“Yet?” Jughead spoke with mouth full, eyes glittering. 

 

“Yet.” Betty took the fork out of his hand. “Now come on, Juggy, you’re in the home stretch.” 

 

***

 

The last few bites were a struggle. Betty started kissing him in between bites, still moving her hips, liking the way she could make him moan a little, both out of arousal and fullness. 

 

“Last one,” she said finally, the words sending a shiver through her. 

 

“Look at you,” she murmured into his ear as she leaned over him to put the empty pie tin and fork on the nightstand. She clenched her vagina around him and felt him shudder, and the pressure of her weight on his belly had him making an involuntary keening noise. 

 

“A whole pie,” she said. “God, you’re gorgeous like this.” She drew back and considered him-- a light sheen of sweat on his forehead, cheeks flushed, belly swollen and certainly looking like the belly of a person who’d just eaten a whole pie in one sitting. 

 

She ran her hand along his side, marveling at how full he looked and felt, only letting her thoughts dance around the idea of him looking like this when his belly was empty, because if she considered that for too long she’d come before taking her time with her pleasure. 

 

“Can you--” Jughead said. “I mean, can we--” He stopped to tuck a piece of black hair behind her ear. “I want to be on top of you.” 

 

***

 

It took some maneuvering, but then he was on top of her, and when he leaned down to kiss her, his belly pushed against her clit and she moaned, eyes falling shut. 

 

Betty could feel Jughead smiling against her temple, and he murmured, “I know you like that. Feeling all of my weight on you, and”-- he pressed himself against her more insistently, and put his lips to her ear-- “thinking about what it’ll feel like when I’m bigger.” 

 

She shuddered, and made her own little keening noise. 

 

“God, Juggy--” He rocked his hips faster, and she could picture it now, when he’d have a solid gut even before she stuffed him to the gills, how she’d take him to Pop’s and watch him eat for a whole afternoon, how she’d bring him home for dinner with her mother and savor her mother’s expression as Jughead ate enough for three. 

 

“Are you going to come, Betty?” Jughead’s voice brought her back, and she couldn’t even correct him. 

 

“Yes,” she panted, “Yes, Jug--” 

 

She was going to hang on and wait, but the orgasm washed over her like wave, and she clutched him to her, feeling it when he released too a moment later, savoring the way his whole weight slumped against her as he rode out his own orgasm. 

 

Betty laid there for a while until she could think clearly again, and she pulled the sweaty wig off of her head. 

 

She must’ve dozed off for a minute, because then she opened her eyes and Jughead was fully clothed-- and there was an unmistakable curve to his belly through his thin henley, it wasn’t a trick of the light or her eyes-- and standing next to the bed, carding his fingers through her hair. 

 

“Milkshake at Pop’s?” he asked, and she had to pinch herself to make sure she wasn’t dreaming. 

 

*****


End file.
